


Happy Hanukkah, David Rose!

by mihaly



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Barebacking, Butt Plugs, Dirty Talk, Jewish Character, Judaism, M/M, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihaly/pseuds/mihaly
Summary: David doesn't talk much about his Jewish side, mostly because no one in Schitt's Creek understands. Patrick wants to.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 57
Kudos: 249
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	Happy Hanukkah, David Rose!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princesstigerlily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesstigerlily/gifts).



> We needed more fics that explored David's Jewish half, so this one is for princesstigerlily and all the other Jews in this fandom. I'm Jewish too, so this was an honor and a privilege to write.
> 
> There are a lot of Jewish terms and concepts in this fic! A lil glossary will be in the endnotes if you need them.
> 
> A big thank you to my beta for all their fine work.

“Patrick? Where can I plug in my diffuser? More specifically, what can I  _ unplug _ so I can plug in my diffuser?”

David stares at the powerstrip under Patrick’s desk, already overloaded with chargers, a lamp, a fan, the printer, and their Alexa. He has some idea of what’s important to Patrick - like his laptop and phone charger - but certainly he could unplug the printer. Or move his tablet charger to the bedroom.

Ugh, this “moving in together” thing is turning out to be much more difficult than David had anticipated.

When they got engaged it had only seemed appropriate for David to live with his fiancé. The idea of spending all of his time with Patrick is truly exciting, which only alarms David because he knows, had this happened in his old life, he’d be upping his therapy appointments to two per week. But now, he can’t wait to wake up beside him every day, spend the day at work together, come home and have dinner, then fall asleep in the same bed without having to negotiate whether David has enough clean clothes left at Patrick’s or if Patrick has to drive him back to the motel, at which point he’ll be roped into some family drama and end up staying there.

Okay, there are a few other reasons to be excited about moving in with Patrick.

After losing everything, David was sure he wouldn’t have much at the motel to move into Patrick’s - now their - apartment. However, over the years, David had accumulated much more than he thought, so he’s struggling to unpack. He’s also trying his hardest to not overstep, to not completely upend the applecart and force himself into Patrick’s space. Sure, he’d spent plenty of time at Patrick’s, but it was all with the understanding that, for as much of an influence as David had in decorating, at the end of the day, it was Patrick’s apartment.

The longer he stares at the powerstrip, the more David can feel his anxiety starting to tick up. He’s certain that Patrick is just about done with him and all of his stuff and demands. First, he’d made them drive to Elmdale to buy a whole wardrobe just to fit half of his sweaters. Then, Patrick had had to put it together by himself because David had been called away to a “family emergency” that involved getting bright blue dye off his mother’s hands and consoling Alexis.

A calm, warm hand tenderly strokes down his back, landing at his waist.

“We can move the chargers somewhere else,” Patrick says confidently before squatting down to remove them from the strip. David hands him the diffuser and soon the first wafts of lavender puff into the air.

“Thank you,” David says with a smile. He gently kisses Patrick on the lips to punctuate it.

“I keep telling you, David, this is as much your home as it is mine,” Patrick reminds him. “You can make decisions and change things if you need to. You did it before you officially moved in.”

“Okay,” David says defensively. “I know some of those things I fixed went right back to where they were before I came over.” Patrick holds back a sheepish grin. “And now that I’m going to be here all the time, I want to make sure it’s not going to move when I’m not around! Or that you’re going to resent me for unplugging your chargers for my diffuser and suddenly I’ll have a runaway groom situation on my hands in a few months!”

“David.” Patrick takes him by the shoulders as he is wont to do. “I am not going to leave you at the altar over something like this, okay?” He steps away and back toward the pile of boxes waiting to be unpacked. “If I have to assemble another wardrobe by myself, however…”

David knows he’s joking, but his anxiety is not listening. The last time he moved was out of the mansion and into the motel. Where he’d had to compete for space with Alexis. He’s never had to build a home with someone he isn’t related to. Every day, Patrick chooses to be with him, whereas Alexis was simply stuck with him. It’s different.

“Well, lucky for you, another wardrobe will throw off the energy in here, so,” David volleys back despite his worrying. He follows Patrick to the boxes where he spots a box with Hebrew writing on the side of it.

"Oh, perfect," he murmurs. He grabs the box and sets it on the kitchen table. Cracking open the lid, he finds his menorah. "Hanukkah is right around the corner so this will be getting some use." David walks over to the window where he places the menorah on the sill. "We'll need to grab some candles from the store."

Back at the box, Patrick pulls out three ornate silver chalices, two elegant silver candlesticks, and a leather-bound book, examining each with a curious eye. His brow wrinkles as he extracts a tasteful wooden plate with hand-carved Hebrew letters and a beautiful white velvet bag delicately embroidered with blue and silver thread.

“David, what is this stuff?” Patrick asks innocently.

David can feel the heat rise beneath his collar.

“Um, you know how I’m a delightful half-and-half situation?” he says nervously. He’s relieved when Patrick nods. “I may have understated how big the Jewish half is.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah…”

“I guess I’m just a little confused,” Patrick admits. “I’ve never seen any of this stuff before. Like, in general. This is all Jewish stuff? The menorah is already set up for Hanukkah next week.” David smiles at him adoringly.

“Oh, my goyish bashert,” he says. “There’s so much more stuff in Judaism than just a menorah once a year.” He takes the white bag from Patrick’s hands. “Like this--” He unzips the bag and pulls out his tallit, a large white woolen shawl with the same embroidery as the bag at the ends and collar. “--is the tallit I was gifted at my bar mitzvah where my body was raging with hormones while I listed all of Moses’ descendents in front of what felt like a million people.”

“It’s beautiful,” Patrick says with sincerity. He’s gotten so used to David’s bullshit that it cuts right through and softens David. Patrick is right; the tallit is beautiful.

“It is,” David agrees. He turns it around so he can admire the craftsmanship himself. “During Yom Kippur, I used to wrap myself up so tightly to try to ignore everyone around me while we fasted.”

“I’m sorry. You fasted? You not only chose not to eat, but did so for a religious reason?” Patrick asks sarcastically.

“Okay, I was definitely trying to impress the rabbi’s son.”

“There it is!”

“I broke fast by blowing him behind the bimah six years in a row.”

“David!”

David smirks at Patrick scolding him. He doesn’t regret it. Ben was really nice - almost as nice as Patrick - but it never would’ve worked out. Ben had been dating his high school sweetheart (now wife) Abby Cohen the whole time.

He gently folds the tallit and stuffs it back in its bag. He admires the other items Patrick has pulled out - kiddush cups, Shabbat candlesticks, his first Tanakh - and a wave of good memories comes over him. New York City had gifted his family with a large Jewish community and he never realized how much he missed it until now. Schitt’s Creek, unsurprisingly, lacked any sort of Jewish community. David swears he heard from his dad that they might be the only Jews some residents have ever met.

“What do you want to do with all of this?” Patrick asks as he looks at the box’s contents.

“Oh, we can throw it all back in the box and hide it in the closet until we need to go to a funeral or something,” David says with a wave of his hand.

David joins Patrick in peering into the box at the remaining items. There are several designer kippot as well as another menorah and a big box of candles.

Then David’s eyes land on the one thing that makes his heart melt.

He reaches into the box and extracts his family’s mezuzah. It’s a simple silver tube with the Hebrew letter ש etched onto it. His dad had purchased it when he’d visited Israel for the first time as an adult and it had hung on the doorpost of their mansion for all of David’s life. He strokes his fingers down the metal, feeling the softness beneath his fingertips.

“What’s that?” Patrick asks, stepping around the box to stand next to David.

“It’s our family mezuzah,” David says softly.

“A mez…?”

“Um, it goes on the doorpost of your home,” he explains. Emotion unexpectedly wells in his throat. “It was on our mansion. I, um, I didn’t know my dad took it before we were thrown out.” He remembers all the years he’d spent absentmindedly kissing his fingers before touching the mezuzah as he entered the house. It was a simple action, but one he’d done religiously.

He unscrews the top to check if the Torah scroll is still inside. Instead, he finds a piece of notepaper rolled up around the scroll. That wasn’t there before…

He extracts the notepaper and unrolls it. In neat handwriting, the note reads:

_ It never felt right to hang this at the motel. Please hang it on your home with Patrick. - Dad _

David fights the big smile that threatens to break out on his face. He’s making a home with Patrick and his dad wants him to have the family mezuzah. Clutching the sacred item to his chest, he closes his eyes and sighs.

“Can we hang this up?” David asks, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes meet Patrick’s dark ones.

“Of course,” Patrick replies just as softly. A small smile tugs at his lips and he rubs David’s bicep. “It’s your home too.”

David bites his lip, nodding. He goes to the front door of the apartment and opens it.

“Can you grab the--”

“Double-stick tape?”

“Thank you,” David says. He’s grateful for a partner who can read his mind. 

Once he has the heavy-duty double-stick tape, Patrick joins him at the open doorway.

“Let’s see if I remember this,” David mumbles. He grips the mezuzah tightly in his hands. Patrick tenderly places a hand on his lower back. “ _Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melech ha’olam, asher kidishanu b’mitz’votav v’tzivanu_ … Uh…” He pulls out his phone and does a quick search. “Oh! _Lik’bo’a m’zuzah_.” He puts his hand out for the double-stick tape. Patrick peels off a strip and helps lay the tape on the back. David carefully affixes the mezuzah to the doorpost, angling it toward the door.

Once it’s firmly on the wood, David steps back to admire their work. He can feel his heart fluttering with joy. This is truly his new home.

Patrick pulls him in close, then kisses him on the cheek.

“Welcome home, David,” Patrick whispers.

* * *

David silently stocks the unscented beeswax candles as he listens to Patrick assist a customer with her purchases. He loves listening to Patrick work. He’s so patient, answering her circular questions about the organic toothpaste they sell. Eventually, Patrick directs her to the counter after suggesting that she buy it to find out if it’s ‘too minty’.

“Take care!” Patrick says as he waves goodbye. Once she’s finally gone, he wanders back to David who cannot help but chuckle.

“She’s afraid the cinnamon-flavored toothpaste will be ‘too minty’,” Patrick tells him.

“Mm, so I’ve heard,” David replies with a small smile.

Patrick crosses his arms and casually leans against the shelves next to where David is stocking. The butterflies in David’s stomach flutter. It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been together, every time Patrick does this, David is reminded of the weeks after their first date. Patrick would saunter up to him and say things that made him blush. Nothing lewd or sexual, but the sweetest things, like how good he smelled that day or that he was really happy they’d met. 

“You know, David,” Patrick begins. “I’ve been thinking about last night…”

David smirks. Last night he’d let Patrick bend him over the kitchen table and rim him til he saw stars. It was really,  _ really _ good.

“I’m thinking about last night, too,” David says sultrily. He turns to Patrick and gives him a once-over. This isn’t usually how their trysts at the store start, but it may as well. He’s always ready to drop to his knees in the back room…

Patrick blushes.

“That’s… That’s not what I’m talking about--”

“Oh. Oh!” Now it’s David’s turn to be embarrassed. “I just thought--”

“No, I know--”

“It’s just that you--”

“It’s fine, David--”

“--did things to me last night--”

“ _ David _ .”

David bites his lip, shutting up. Still, he can’t help but smile because the blush on Patrick’s cheeks rose higher which meant he is clearly thinking about that part of last night too.

Patrick clears his throat. He takes another moment to recover. Maybe David will be giving him a blowjob in the back room later...

“Um, no. That’s--that’s not what I was thinking about,” he says. “I was thinking about your, um, mezuzah?” David is charmed by how he stumbles over the Hebrew word.

“What about it? That you want to take it down?”

“No! No, I don’t. I was just thinking about all the other things in the box.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Patrick says. “I know we celebrate Christmas together and you’ve indulged me by going to the Easter Egg Hunt in Elmdale--”

“That was a long way to go to watch kids we didn’t know look for eggs.”

“But I was wondering if there’s anything you wished we did to celebrate your Judaism?”

This is not what David was anticipating.

“Um, I… don’t know.” He hasn’t been presented with this question, well, ever. “It’s hard to celebrate a lot of Jewish holidays when there’s no synagogue or big community. There’s plenty of sadness here, so that’s covered.”

Patrick laughs.

“I know we’ll light candles for Hanukkah, but isn’t there a Passover seder or something you want to plan? Something small and lowkey?”

“Okay, so Passover is a pretty big deal. Holiness-wise it's about on par with Easter, including watching children go find hidden food except instead of chocolate it’s flavorless cardboard,” David explains. “And it’s long. If my dad is involved, he will ensure it goes at least four hours.”

“For a dinner?”

“There are a lot of plagues to talk about, Patrick.”

“...Over dinner?” His fiancé was clearly still very confused.

“But there are some at-home things we can do on occasion, if you’re interested,” David offers.

“Only if you want to,” Patrick insists.

David doesn’t know if he wants to. Their family never had any sort of traditions nor did he know any of the prayers. He could barely read Hebrew anymore except for maybe a few sexual phrases and that had only been so he could talk to some hot Israeli girls on Birthright.

Yet he yearns to create traditions with Patrick. He wants to make things that are specifically theirs. To create a beautiful Jewish tradition with his gentile fiancé would mean so much to him.

“Um, there are just so many choices, so many different things we could do,” David says.

“Well, you don’t have to decide now,” Patrick says. He gently touches David’s arm. “Anything you want to do, I’m completely on board for.”

“Thank you.” He gives Patrick a soft smile, which earns him a kiss on the cheek. Patrick doesn’t immediately step away from him but instead lingers, staring at David’s neckline. David knows what that means.

“...Now you’re thinking about last night,” David says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, do you want to step into the back room?” Patrick asks quickly.

“I thought you would never ask.”

* * *

It’s been a long day, and David is thrilled it’s over. He’d spent the better part of the morning driving to a small farm sixty miles north of Elmdale, which is already half an hour north of Schitt’s Creek. Then spent the entire afternoon in a potential supplier’s canning cellar where it was cold and damp, then to another farm where the firewood was kept in a faraway barn that required them to traipse across the snow until it felt like his toes were going to fall off. Thankfully, he’d secured both contracts and was coming home with good news, despite his frozen feet.

As he climbs the stairs to his apartment, the scent of frying potatoes wafts through the air. It smells heavenly, especially after a long day in the cold without his fiancé. He wonders if their neighbors would be willing to share…

But as he gets closer to his home, he realizes the delicious smell is coming from  _ his _ apartment. He unlocks the door and is nearly knocked over by the scent, but he’s absolutely floored by the sight in front of him.

On the kitchen table are plates of jelly doughnuts, kugel, and a pile of chocolate gelt with the dreidels from his box of Jewish things. There are small dishes of strawberry jam, applesauce, and sour cream. His menorah sits as the centerpiece between two table settings.

Patrick stands at the stove, his back to David, softly singing along to his playlist of favorite songs. He’s wearing the same sweater he wore when they officially became boyfriends. (It’s David’s favorite - so soft, so tug-able.)

“Hi,” David says, announcing his presence as he shrugs off his coat.

Patrick glances over his shoulder with a bright smile.

“Hey! Welcome home,” he says. “How were the meetings?”

“Well, Harlin’s firewood shed may as well be in another country, with how far away it is from his house,” David replies. “I was not dressed for an excursion through the arctic.”

Patrick makes an acknowledging noise, having turned back to his cooking. David knows that wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

“I did secure both contracts,” he tells him.

“That’s great!” Patrick says. “I think we’re going to do really well with the firewood.”

“Mhm.”

With his wet shoes off and his cozy slippers on, David shuffles over to his fiancé. He wraps his arms around Patrick’s waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder. Finally, he can see what Patrick is making and his suspicion is confirmed.

“You’re making latkes,” David says fondly.

“Well, I figured since it’s the first night of Hanukkah and my fiancé had a very long day, I could try my hand at some potato pancakes,” Patrick answers proudly.

“They look delicious.” Patrick had a small stack of latkes on a plate next to the stove. They were perfectly golden brown, and all around the same size and shape. They look exactly like the ones Adelina used to make. David briefly wonders if it’s the same recipe, too.

“Just don’t look in the trash can.”

David can’t help but smirk. That must be where the burnt ones ended up.

“Dinner should be ready in a few minutes. I’ve got a couple more to make. And there’s a fresh pot of coffee that just finished about five minutes ago.”

“Oh my god, I love you so much.”

David squeezes Patrick tightly and drops a kiss on Patrick’s neck. Patrick turns his head for a kiss on the lips, then David backs away to let him finish.

After pouring himself a cup of coffee, David wanders out of the kitchen to patiently wait for dinner. He sinks into the couch and puts his feet up. His eyes drift to the fireplace where Patrick has a small fire going. God, is this what married life is going to be like? He could definitely get used to this.

He sighs, relaxing further into the sofa. He admires their decorations which they’ve rearranged to fit David’s belongings in with Patrick’s. Mostly, he lingers on their engagement photos. He’s literally never seen either of them so deliriously happy.

His eyes drift from the photos to the new objects next to the simple silver frame. His Shabbat candlesticks have found a home on the fireplace mantle. Patrick must have put them there while he was out. Then he looks over to their bookshelf where his Tanakh is nestled beside Patrick’s First Communion bible. It’s quite sweet to see how Patrick is incorporating these little touches into their apartment, as if he’s resolved to never let David’s jewishness be tucked into a box again.

David sips his coffee while his gorgeous and kind fiancé sings and cooks beautiful latkes. In this moment, life is perfect.

A few minutes later, Patrick announces, “Okay, David, dinner’s ready.”

David joins Patrick at the kitchen table where the plate of latkes has taken center stage amidst all the other food.

“I figured you would prefer to eat first, then light candles,” Patrick says.

“And you would be correct. This looks amazing, Patrick,” David says as they sit. “Thank you so much.” He leans in for a kiss that Patrick readily accepts.

“Anything for you,” Patrick replies with a happy sigh.

They dine on the incredible spread Patrick made for them and discuss their days. Maybe it’s the day he’s had or that he’s so deeply in love with Patrick, but the latkes are somehow better than the ones Adelina made, which David didn’t think was possible. It’s a lovely Hanukkah dinner, something David hadn’t had for decades. (Hanukkah dinners, yes. Lovely ones? Maybe never.)

David regales Patrick with all the chaos his family has experienced over the years with regards to Hanukkah, from celebrating it a week late to account for his mom’s Botox to Alexis accidentally knocking the table of gifts off their yacht. Patrick finishes eating and spends the next few minutes listening to David intently with his hand idly stroking David’s knee under the table.

“And then my dad had to call Goldie Hawn and tell her not to come,” David tells him, wrapping up the story of how Alexis had managed to get into a fight with Kate Hudson at a nightclub on the third night of Hanukkah. Patrick smiles politely as he often does with David’s stories that involve celebrities who he’s not quite sure he remembers. David appreciates his endless patience every single moment of every single day.

David wipes his mouth with his napkin before dropping it on the table.

“Would you like to light the candles now?” David asks.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Patrick answers with a smile.

They both stand up and move around the table to better access the menorah. David picks up the box of candles, pulls out two, and hands them to Patrick.

“Okay, you’re going to put one in the middle - that’s the  _ shamash _ \- and the other on the far right,” David instructs him. The candles in place, David takes the matchbox from the table, strikes a match and sings as he lights the shamash.

“ _Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah_.”

Once the prayer is finished, David coughs, a bit embarrassed he just sang in front of his fiancé, something he had vowed never to do. He feels Patrick place a hand on his lower back and soothingly rub.

“That was beautiful, David,” Patrick says adoringly, not at all patronizing. David feels the heat on his cheeks.

“Um, do you want to light the other candle?” he says, purposefully dodging the question.

“Can we light it together?” Emotion wells in David’s throat.

“Of course.”

After Patrick carefully removes the lit shamash candle from the menorah, David gingerly covers Patrick’s hand with his own, guiding him to the unlit candle. With a deep breath, David sings again.

“ _Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, shehecheyanu v'kiy'manu v'higiyanu laz'man hazeh_.”

Patrick returns the shamash to its holder and the two of them take a moment to watch the flickering candlelight in silence. Patrick wraps his arm around David’s waist to pull him closer.

“What do the prayers mean?” Patrick asks softly.

“Um, most of them are thanking God for literally everything,” David explains. “That last one - the  _ shehecheyanu _ \- is sung when something good happens for the first time. So we sing it on the first night of Hanukkah since it’s the first night.” David shifts so he can face Patrick and drape his arms over his shoulders. “And it’s particularly special since it was your first time lighting a menorah.”

Patrick gives him a big smile before leaning in for a kiss that David is more than happy to give him. He hugs David tightly, keeping him against his body for a long, languid kiss. When they finally pull back, David feels a bit dizzy. They gaze at each other, and David can tell Patrick is mulling something over. He scratches at the nape of Patrick’s neck, silently encouraging his thoughts.

Finally, Patrick says, “How would you want to decorate our chuppah?”

David’s heart skips a beat. The question takes him by surprise. Patrick had used the Hebrew term for the Jewish wedding canopy.

“Oh! Um…” David doesn’t know how to respond. 

“C’mon, David,” Patrick says cheekily. “I know you’ve thought about it.”

Yes, he’d thought about it, but he figured since they aren’t doing a religious ceremony that they wouldn’t include anything like that.

“I’d want to keep it simple,” he answers. “Dark wood poles with my tallit as our canopy. Keep it simple so it doesn’t draw focus away from us.”

Patrick chuckles. David smiles.

“What about stomping on the glass?”

“I could see us making some beautiful stained glass out of it.”

“Fasting?”

“You’re joking.” Patrick laughs.

“I am. What about the sheva be-rack-hoet?” Patrick stumbles over the Hebrew. David could not love him more in this moment.

“It sounds like someone googled Jewish wedding traditions while he looked for latke recipes,” David gently ribs him. The tips of Patrick’s ears go pink.

“Maybe…” he replies shyly.

“Well, I think it would be really lovely to include our family and friends in reading the seven blessings,” David says. He imagines their family and friends each taking turns to read a specific blessing for their wedding.

“I’m not sure my parents will be able to read Hebrew, though,” Patrick says with a shy smile.

All this wedding talk is making David’s body warm, and he presses himself closer to Patrick. 

“I think English would be just fine,” David says as he leans in for another kiss. This one is searing and deep, both of them pulling the other closer. David’s fingers end up in Patrick’s hair while Patrick takes the opportunity to slip his hands beneath David’s sweater. His hands are like brands against David’s skin, creating heat in his belly. He impulsively grinds his slowly hardening cock against Patrick’s, which earns him a soft moan against his lips.

“Who knew talking about Jewish traditions would be so hot?” David jokingly murmurs against Patrick’s lips between kisses.

Patrick rests his forehead against David’s, their lips just barely brushing one another’s, breathing each other in.

“I want to sign a ketubah,” Patrick says, his voice deep and sexy.

David shivers.

“Yeah?” is all he can manage.

“I want to write our vows down so we can hang it in our home,” Patrick continues in the same husky tone. “I want everyone to see what we’ve promised to one another and how much I will always love you.”

A sob from deep in David’s body erupts from his throat. Their vows and legal marriage contract are apparently not enough for Patrick; he wants to sign the traditional Jewish marriage contract, too. David has a man who wants to devote his whole life to him in as many ways has he can. He’s never had that before. He’s never had someone who so fully, deeply loves him who is even interested in him, let alone his jewishness. Over the years, he’s admired some beautiful ketubot with gorgeous original artwork drawn around the couple’s vows to one another. Each of them is significant and unique to the couple, instead of something printed from a copier in city hall. It would be exactly them and their relationship put on paper forever.

David can’t respond with words. Instead, he dives into a passionate kiss that leaves them both breathless. 

He needs Patrick  _ now _ .

David grinds his erection against Patrick, showing him just how that makes him feel. Patrick growls in response and begins to steer David back toward their bed. David moans loudly when Patrick bites at his lip, sucking on it briefly, before diving back in for a deep kiss. 

They tug at each other’s clothes. David pulls at Patrick’s undershirt, untucking it from his pants. It’s all he can do before Patrick is pushing his sweater over his head and tossing it expertly on a nearby chair. David does the same to Patrick, grateful he doesn’t have to unbutton his shirt when his hands are shaking with so much need. Their chests press together and David revels in having Patrick’s heated skin against his. He makes quick work of Patrick’s belt and together they shove his pants and underwear to the floor, leaving him gloriously naked. Patrick struggles a moment - his foot caught in his pant leg - so David steps back momentarily to give him space, and god, is he glad he did. 

Once his foot is free, he stands up and David could faint from the sight in front of him: his fiancé, completely naked and ready to have sex with him, his cock standing hard and proud in front of him. David swears Patrick stumbled out of a fantasy he had years and years ago; a man who is always ready, willing, and oh so eager to have loud passionate sex with him. 

“Stay right there,” he commands huskily. “You look so fucking good.” Patrick preens under the praise, one hand rubbing his chest while the other traces the base of his cock with his thumb. Fuck, it makes David want to suck him off right there. He’d drop to his knees anywhere Patrick asked. And Patrick knows exactly what he’s doing; he  _ knows _ David is addicted to his cock. It can be a real productivity killer when he wears his best fitting jeans that make David want to lick his bulge right over the fabric. (Which David absolutely has done on multiple occasions.) 

David hurriedly shoves his own pants and underwear off, grateful he went for comfort over style today so they come off easily.

They’ve been separated too long for David’s liking. He grabs Patrick possessively and hauls him in for a messy kiss. One hand grips his shoulder while the other grabs his ass, his fingers dangerously close to Patrick’s hole. Patrick whines as he runs his fingers through David’s hair and kisses him deeper. Their cocks pressed between their bellies get some delicious friction. 

Knowingly, David brushes his finger against his hole. Patrick reflexively clenches and moans loudly, the sound filling the apartment. He presses a little harder, the tip of his finger easily sinking in. That earns him a needy whine that goes straight to his dick. Patrick rocks his hips back and forth in a desperate attempt to fuck himself on David’s finger.

“Want my cock, baby?” David asks, deep and raspy.

“Yes, yes, I want your cock so bad,” Patrick gasps. 

David pushes his finger in a little further. It’s dry, and he knows he can’t do much more without lube. But it draws another gasp from Patrick and he starts to babble and beg.

“God, want your cock so bad, David. I want it, I want it so much. God, please please please  _ please _ fuck me…”

It’s always amazing to David how easy it is to reduce his proper, poised fiancé to a horny, desperate mess.

He backs Patrick up the short distance until his legs hit the mattress, then gently shoves him to lie down. Patrick does, scooting up on the bed for David to join him. David grabs the lube out of the nightstand before crawling over Patrick and laying between his legs.

Immediately, Patrick wraps his legs high on David’s waist and his arms around his back, holding him close so they can grind together. David has flashbacks to when they first were having sex and this was much of what they did - clothes on and off. He remembers the minute looks of surprise on Patrick’s face when he would feel David’s cock brush against his own, like he was still coming to terms with  _ just _ how gay he is.

And now, he’s begging for David’s dick loud enough that their neighbors could hear.

“Fuck me open with that big cock, David. I wanna feel it later, feel how my ass was made just for your dick. Want you to cum inside me, plug me up  _ please-- _ ”

David hugs Patrick close, rutting against him, their cocks sliding against one another by the sweat on their stomachs. He bites gently on the column of Patrick’s neck, drawing a gasp then a groan from his partner. Patrick doesn’t like marks above the collar, but teeth on his neck never fails to make him shudder. This time is no exception. He’s so responsive to everything, which he’s told David he was the opposite of before they met. Perhaps it is the years of pent up gayness that are finally being released that makes Patrick want everyone to know when he’s getting fucked in the ass.

They don’t kiss much when Patrick is like this because goddamn, David loves to hear it. Loves to hear his man beg and plead for his body, loves how complimentary he can be, and his undying declarations of love. One day, David wants to record how Patrick begs for him and listen to it on repeat everywhere.

But right now, he has a request to fulfill.

He wrestles himself out of Patrick’s embrace much to Patrick’s chagrin. He sits back on his heels and uncaps the lube to pour some on his dick and fingers. Patrick watches him, enraptured, his eyes darting between David’s face and his shiny cock. David can tell he’s trying to be patient, but if the occasional bob of his cock is anything to go by, Patrick is on edge.

David catches his eye and makes him follow the hand with the lube as he tenderly lifts Patrick’s balls to drizzle some directly on his hole. Patrick gasps and shivers, the cool liquid a shock on his hot skin. David drops the bottle back on the bed before pushing the lube into Patrick with his thumb. Patrick groans loudly, then grabs his thighs to open himself up for David.

“Don’t stretch me, I wanna feel you,” Patrick says.

David does as he’s told. He positions the head of his cock against Patrick’s hole and slowly begins to press in, watching the look of sheer ecstasy on Patrick’s face as he fills him.

“Fuck,  _ David _ ,” Patrick moans, his eyes rolling back.

David smirks. He loves to watch Patrick during this part. He’s so expressive, eager, and beautiful as his back arches and his body automatically seeks more. He likes to take his time, drawing it out until Patrick is shaking. Plus, it’s so hot to see his ass being split open by David’s dick.

Finally, after all seven inches have slid into Patrick, David drops down to hover over Patrick who is staring at him like he hung the moon. He can feel the excitement crackling under Patrick’s skin, can see the eagerness in his eyes, and it’s intoxicating. To have a man so excited to be fucked by him still feels brand new to David. 

He slowly leans down to kiss Patrick who jumpstarts the moment their lips touch. He grabs David possessively, digging his heels into his ass and rolling his hips, already trying to work himself on David’s cock. They go from zero to sixty, from a glacially slow initial penetration to fucking like rabbits. Patrick wraps himself around David as he drives his cock into Patrick, their hips loudly smacking together. David hugs Patrick close, holding him still so he can slam into him deeper and deeper. Between them, Patrick’s cock leaks precum, which smears onto both of their bellies, mixing with their sweat.

David pulls his mouth away from Patrick’s to tuck his face into his neck and focus on fucking Patrick for everything he’s worth. He knows he can get Patrick off without touching his cock and he’s determined to do it. In their time together, David has learned so many things about Patrick and he’d be lying if he said none of them were sexual. He loves knowing how much Patrick enjoys being fucked in the ass, sucking cock, light asphyxiation, and bending David over the kitchen table at every opportunity. Patrick is the best sex David has ever had in his life and he’s so happy that this man is his forever.

They breathe into each other’s skin, their mouths kissing and sucking wherever they are. Patrick turns his face so his lips are against David’s ear. His labored breathing and tiny whines and moans that only he can hear push David closer and closer to the edge. Patrick starts to babble again.

“I love you, I love you so much, David, I love you, you feel so good, never stop, please never stop, fuck, I love you…”

Patrick hitches his knees up higher, allowing David to drill deeper into him.

Suddenly, Patrick chokes out a gasp and he digs his fingers into David’s back.

“Oh,  _ fuck! _ ” he shouts.

David knows what that means. He sticks with that angle and tries to hit his prostate as many times as possible, feeling him clench around him with every strike.

Patrick starts to shake beneath him, his body so overwhelmed by all the sensations happening at once. He’s close.

“David,” he begs. “David, kiss me.”

David does without a second thought. Their lips meet in a messy kiss that’s mostly teeth and tongue, but David doesn’t mind. Patrick is unraveling under him and he only has one goal in mind: to get him off.

Patrick’s hands slide into his hair to tug hard at the strands. David knows he’s close, so he does what he knows will get him all the way there. He moves his hand to Patrick’s throat and gently applies enough pressure that he can feel Patrick’s Adam’s apple bob roughly against his palm. 

Patrick’s eyes widen in excitement and his body tenses beneath David’s, like a rubberband about to snap. His fingernails bite into David’s skin as David continues to fuck into him fast and hard. David drags his lips to Patrick’s ear.

“Cum for me, Patrick,” he whispers hotly. He tightens his fingers ever so slightly. “C’mon, cum on my dick. Wanna feel you--”

“Oh fuck,” Patrick chokes. “ _ Oh fuck,  _ **_oh fuck!_ ** ”

He lets out a strangled cry as he clenches down on David’s cock and cums messily between them. The squeezing is enough for David. A few more thrusts and then he shoves his cock all the way in and cums, emptying himself deep in Patrick’s ass.

Time suspends for a moment as they come back into the world around them. Patrick’s eyes have softened into the loving ones David sees all the time. He grins brightly and David can’t help but kiss him. They kiss for a minute as David’s cock goes soft inside of him.

“Can I sit up?” David asks quietly against Patrick’s lips. 

Patrick pouts and nods.

David sits back on his heels and eases his softened dick out of Patrick’s ass, leaving the mess inside. Patrick doesn’t let go of his thighs, instead leaving himself wide open, his hips tilted up, waiting.

David grabs the lube off the bed before returning to the nightstand where he swaps it for a large black silicone plug roughly the size of an avocado, Patrick’s favorite. He places the head of it against Patrick’s wet hole. Patrick’s eyes close and he breathes deeply as David pushes the plug into him. It feels like it takes forever to slide in, that it’s truly going to split Patrick in half. But then it quickly sinks in after the largest width passes the outer ring of muscle.

Patrick sighs happily once the plug is in place. Introducing Patrick to butt plugs, David thinks, was the best thing he’d ever done in their relationship. Patrick loves to wear the plug as often as he can and usually demands it if he bottoms at home. And who is David to deny him?

David then grabs a few tissues off the nightstand to wipe off both of their stomachs. They’ll shower later, but right now, he just wants to cuddle with his fiancé. He tosses the tissues off the side of the bed before collapsing on his back next to Patrick. Patrick instinctively curls around him, draping a leg over his and wrapping his arm around his middle. David wraps an arm around Patrick to where he can gently play with the base of the plug inside Patrick, something Patrick enjoys immensely.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a minute, feeling the sweat cool on their skin, basking in the afterglow. Patrick idly scratches his fingers in David’s chest hair while David can’t stop touching the base of the plug.

Patrick shifts, turning to get a better look at David’s face. He’s smiling which only causes David to smile as well.

“So Jewish wedding traditions really get you going, huh,” Patrick remarks cheekily. David bites back a smile.

“Now you understand why I hadn’t brought them up,” he retorts sarcastically. “I would’ve bent over a table for you every time I heard Hava Nagila.”

Patrick chuckles.

“I’m glad we talked about this, David,” he says earnestly.

“Me too.”

“I want to incorporate all of you, all of me, all of  _ us _ in our wedding.”

“Agreed.”

“And that includes all that stuff, especially the ket--”

“--the ketubah,” David finishes with him, grinning. “Trust me, we will be finding the best artist and calligrapher we can afford to make it. I want everyone to be envious of our vows on every level possible.”

“Good.”

David sits up a little to check the menorah. Sure enough, the candles had melted all the way down; Hanukkah candles never lasted long.

“Candles are out,” he tells Patrick.

“Does that mean Hanukkah is over for tonight?” Patrick asks.

“Oh honey, Hanukkah is just getting started.” Patrick gets a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

“Eight nights of super hot sex?”

“Of course,” David answers, beaming. “Happy Hanukkah, Patrick.”

“Happy Hanukkah, David.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can follow me on tumblr @davidroseshusband
> 
> GLOSSARY  
> (these are super basic definitions and should be enough to get the gist of everything in the fic)  
> mitzvah - celebration  
> goyish - non-Jewish; gentile  
> bashert - soulmate; ideal marriage partner  
> tallit - prayer shawl  
> Yom Kippur - holiest Jewish holiday  
> bimah - platform/podium in a synagogue  
> kiddush cup - chalice used for Jewish ritual  
> Shabbat - weekly day of rest (Friday sunset to Saturday sunset)  
> Tanakh - Jewish bible  
> kippot - plural of kippah aka yarmulke aka skullcap  
> kugel - casserole  
> gelt - coins  
> Sheva Brachot - seven blessings read at a Jewish wedding  
> ketubot - plural of ketubah  
> Hava Nagila - that Jewish wedding song you're thinking of
> 
> **A note on the bit about Passover & Easter - the two are not at all the same holiday, but it's arguably in the top three important Jewish holidays as Easter is the #2 Christian holiday after Christmas.


End file.
